Betrayal
by Sophia Angelia
Summary: Is there ever a safe place for the Doctor? Not even in his mind? But is he awake or asleep? It's impossible to tell where the end is in a circle.


**A/N: Hello, readers! I had a weird dream last night, and thought I'd write it down for all of you to enjoy! I had a little trouble with the end, so I'm taking this moment to give credit to TheUnitedStatesofAwesome for helping me out with the ending. This takes place sometime after the Waters of Mars, but before the End of Time. Please review! Reviews make me so happy! Also, check out TheUnitedStatesofAwesome's stories!**

* * *

There's a bright flash of light, and the Doctor finds himself waking up on a cold, metal examination table wearing nothing except a thin pair of pants and an IV in his arm. "What?" he cries out in disbelief, trying to sit up. In doing so, however, he finds that he has been strapped down to the table. "What?" he repeats, this time with confusion. Slowly, from the darkness of the rest of the examination room, a team of four clad in white approach the Doctor.

"Rose, administer the anesthesia," one of the approaching surgeons pointed to the IV. It took a minute to register that the voice sounded exactly like Martha, and the person running up to the IV and pushing in the anesthesia looked very much like Rose, _his_ Rose.

"_What?_" a now very confused, and slightly scared, Doctor practically screamed in a cry for help. "Martha, Rose, if that's really you, please let me go right now!" The Doctor struggled against his bonds, lifting his head up off the examination table in defiance, though he already felt the anesthesia kicking in.

"Oh, I've wanted to do this ever since I met you, Doctor." This time it was a male voice, and the Doctor realized it was Captain Jack Harkness. "We won't be letting you go until we get what we want."

"And what's that?" the Doctor asked, scared to find out.

"Satisfaction," the fourth one, who sounded exactly like Donna, stated while cleaning off some sharp-looking surgeon's tools.

Eyelids growing heavy, the Doctor struggled to stay awake. "Please, don't do this," he begged, "If any drop of blood, if any tissue sample is taken out of this room, it will change history for the worse."

"That's why we're not taking any blood or tissue samples," Rose ran a finger over the Doctor's bare chest teasingly. "We just want to see what's inside."

"Rose… Why?" his head slumped back against the cold table, and turned slightly to see that Martha had already wired him up to monitors displaying his vitals. She had even changed the heart rate monitor to correctly display his double heartbeats.

"Sleep now, Doctor," Martha cooed as the Doctor's eyes slowly closed. "We'll be done before you know it."

* * *

The Doctor's eyes flashed open. Had it only been a second since he went under? Or was it hours? For once, he found he couldn't tell. With a grunt, the Doctor lifted his head up off the table. Three of his former companions were in one corner of the room, chatting about what they found. The fourth was bent over the Doctor, stitching him up.

"I hope that's you, Martha," the Doctor groaned.

Martha looked up and smiled at him. "Yea, it's me. I figured a professional ought to do this bit."

The Doctor craned his neck to see the huge scar running over his upper body, two lines parallel to each other across his hips and collar bone, and a line in the middle leading straight down, resembling a gigantic I. "I hope that goes away with regeneration. Speaking of regeneration, did I happen to regenerate in the middle of your… surgery?"

"Nope, still same old you." Martha dutifully returned to her stitch work, just finishing up. "And before you ask, we didn't take anything and put all your organs back where we found them."

"You took them out?" the Doctor exclaimed, growing angry.

"Relax, we didn't take any samples and put them all back in there proper place. No cutting, just shifting."

The Doctor calmed down a bit, but was still absolutely furious with his former companions. "How could you do this to me?" he growled, not bothering to cover up the dark anger.

"Because we can," Captain Jack said, strolling over with the other companions. They all wore evil grins on their faces, and the Doctor remembered where he was: strapped down and exposed. Slowly, his anger melted to fear as he imagined all the ways they could torture him for all the hardships he put them through.

Feeling weak and pathetic, the Doctor began to shiver with fear. "Please, don't do this! I'm your friend, remember?"

"What kind of friend wipes their friend's memories?" Donna asked.

"Abandons them in an alternate universe?" Rose added.

"Or on a satellite?" Jack accused.

"I've never heard of a friend who forces their friend to trek around the world, against their will." Martha finished. "You, Doctor, are not out friend." With that, all four of them took out some instruments that looked very painful.

"No. Please don't do this! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" The Doctor struggled against his bonds, fear and adrenaline flushing out the rest of the anesthesia.

* * *

The Doctor sat bolt upright in bed in a cold sweat, panting hard, hugging his midsection and shaking. Blinking a few times to register that he was in his room in the TARDIS, the Doctor tore off his nightshirt and checked his chest for scars, rubbing his chest to make sure it wasn't an illusion. "Just a nightmare…" The Doctor told himself repeatedly while getting ready for the day; though he was sure he could still feel the evil eyes of his nightmares watching him. The Doctor found himself asking:

_Was it really a dream? ...or will they be back? _

"I have a feeling this isn't the end of this illusion..." he says. Then, the doors open. Four black figures stand in the doorway, back light by bright sunlight. They move closer, time moving even slower for the tortured Time Lord. Will it ever end?

_Betrayal is an endless cycle._


End file.
